grin turned into a wince and back to a grin. “Good thing I’m sporting a beard. I would have had a hard time explaining the bruise. That was a perfect jab. Or should I say, sucker punch?”
“ Please. You saw it coming a light-year away. You could have blocked it if you wanted.”
“If you think I saw anything but you glowing like a golden goddess in that torture device of a dress, you give me too much credit. You reduce me to my basic beast and the most simpleminded and oblivious of men.”
Why was he doing this? Reengaging his seduction program? Was there something he still needed from her? Was he making sure she was hot enough for the required malleability?
“At least believe that if I’d seen this punch coming, I would have ducked so you wouldn’t hurt your hand.”
“Oh, sure. You care about the hand that just socked you.”
“I care about nothing but your every bone and pore and inch. All I want is to show you how much...I care. But wait...”
He suddenly turned and strode away, disappeared into the kitchenette. In moments, he came back with a bag of ice. Stopping before her, he took her hand, ran gentle fingers over the knuckles that throbbed with a dull ache, his eyebrows knotting as he examined the forming bruise. Placing the ice on her knuckles, he gritted his teeth, as if her gasp hurt him.
“Next time, use a heavy, blunt object.”
A shudder rattled through her, at his dark mutter more than at the icy numbing. She’d known she’d pay the price for her recklessness in pain and limited mobility for a while. But she’d thought it a small price for venting her frustration in the one way she hadn’t tried yet. Physically.
She only felt worse now—stupid on top of out-of-control and futile. And his solicitude had turned the tables on her. She’d known he wouldn’t retaliate, but she’d hoped it would surprise him into baring his fangs, or at least dropping his mask. He’d done that once, that night six years ago.
She’d always conjured those moments when he’d snarled at her like a wounded beast, when unstoppable longing for him had almost snuffed her will to go on. But even then, he’d exposed her to the full range of his faces. Passionate, anxious, shocked, angry, possessive, bewildered and betrayed. Thinking none of those had been real had only made her unable to trust her judgment again. Just as she couldn’t now.
Carefully removing the ice, he lifted her hand to his lips. Holding her eyes as if he wanted her to let him into her soul, he feathered each knuckle with a kiss that was tender, almost reverent. And something in the center of her being buckled.
For him to be kissing the hand that had just inflicted an act of aggression and affront on him was too much. Unsteadily, she withdrew her hand.
He exhaled, flexed his hand as if it hurt, too, before it went up to the side of his neck.
Then he suddenly grinned at her. “What do you know...you fixed my neck!”
The spontaneity of his grin, the ease, the warmth, how real this all felt—her longing for the man she’d once loved with every fiber of her being—suddenly overwhelmed her. The yearning that had writhed inside her like a burning serpent lurched so hard that her nails dug into her good hand’s palm until they almost broke her skin.
“Okay. You achieved your purpose, made sure my sisters-in-law heard the kind of conversation you forced on me....”
His hand rose in protest. “How could I have known they were with you?”
“Because you apparently keep me under surveillance every second I’m awake, maybe even when I’m asleep.”
“I told you I didn’t know where you were.”
“Even if I believe this, I told you I had company. In fact, having anyone else present would have been even more damaging. But you established what you wanted. That our relationship goes far beyond last night, and its past nature is also implicit if you could talk to me with such... audacity.”
“How could they have known I was
“ Please. You saw it coming a light-year away. You could have blocked it if you wanted.”
“If you think I saw anything but you glowing like a golden goddess in that torture device of a dress, you give me too much credit. You reduce me to my basic beast and the most simpleminded and oblivious of men.”
Why was he doing this? Reengaging his seduction program? Was there something he still needed from her? Was he making sure she was hot enough for the required malleability?
“At least believe that if I’d seen this punch coming, I would have ducked so you wouldn’t hurt your hand.”
“Oh, sure. You care about the hand that just socked you.”
“I care about nothing but your every bone and pore and inch. All I want is to show you how much...I care. But wait...”
He suddenly turned and strode away, disappeared into the kitchenette. In moments, he came back with a bag of ice. Stopping before her, he took her hand, ran gentle fingers over the knuckles that throbbed with a dull ache, his eyebrows knotting as he examined the forming bruise. Placing the ice on her knuckles, he gritted his teeth, as if her gasp hurt him.
“Next time, use a heavy, blunt object.”
A shudder rattled through her, at his dark mutter more than at the icy numbing. She’d known she’d pay the price for her recklessness in pain and limited mobility for a while. But she’d thought it a small price for venting her frustration in the one way she hadn’t tried yet. Physically.
She only felt worse now—stupid on top of out-of-control and futile. And his solicitude had turned the tables on her. She’d known he wouldn’t retaliate, but she’d hoped it would surprise him into baring his fangs, or at least dropping his mask. He’d done that once, that night six years ago.
She’d always conjured those moments when he’d snarled at her like a wounded beast, when unstoppable longing for him had almost snuffed her will to go on. But even then, he’d exposed her to the full range of his faces. Passionate, anxious, shocked, angry, possessive, bewildered and betrayed. Thinking none of those had been real had only made her unable to trust her judgment again. Just as she couldn’t now.
Carefully removing the ice, he lifted her hand to his lips. Holding her eyes as if he wanted her to let him into her soul, he feathered each knuckle with a kiss that was tender, almost reverent. And something in the center of her being buckled.
For him to be kissing the hand that had just inflicted an act of aggression and affront on him was too much. Unsteadily, she withdrew her hand.
He exhaled, flexed his hand as if it hurt, too, before it went up to the side of his neck.
Then he suddenly grinned at her. “What do you know...you fixed my neck!”
The spontaneity of his grin, the ease, the warmth, how real this all felt—her longing for the man she’d once loved with every fiber of her being—suddenly overwhelmed her. The yearning that had writhed inside her like a burning serpent lurched so hard that her nails dug into her good hand’s palm until they almost broke her skin.
“Okay. You achieved your purpose, made sure my sisters-in-law heard the kind of conversation you forced on me....”
His hand rose in protest. “How could I have known they were with you?”
“Because you apparently keep me under surveillance every second I’m awake, maybe even when I’m asleep.”
“I told you I didn’t know where you were.”
“Even if I believe this, I told you I had company. In fact, having anyone else present would have been even more damaging. But you established what you wanted. That our relationship goes far beyond last night, and its past nature is also implicit if you could talk to me with such... audacity.”
“How could they have known I was
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